One of the consistent themes I’ve been hearing these days from the artists, thinkers, and scholars I follow is how important it is to stay grounded and well-resourced.
I want to not get swept away in the grief and despair of the latest executive order, especially when the truth is that we are in a dark tunnel—of news, events, and impacts on people we know or groups of people we care about.
The truth is also that babies are being born, we are sharing meals with loved ones, we are celebrating birthdays, and the natural world here in the Northern Hemisphere is about to wake up with spring.
These things are both true, and I suspect that some of our most important work, as humans, is to feel both truths deeply and not get overwhelmed with sadness and grief. At least, that’s the message that’s been giving me solace.
Knitting and making things with my hands gives me solace, too.
Rather than disconnecting me from the news or keeping me blissfully unaware of actions that need to happen, knitting has fueled me for more.
When I’ve been knitting consistently in the evenings—the time of day I’ve set aside for my knitting practice—I feel a little more robust in the mornings and can call my Congressional representatives. (I’ve learned that calling matters more than emailing and that adding my voice to an issue is the best way to influence my representative and Senators before they take a public stance.)
When I’ve been knitting consistently, I can read the news or see trends without getting so profoundly distressed that I can’t figure out what to do next when all the things need doing all the time.
One of you commented on a recent post asking, from what felt like a place of despair, “But what can we do to resist (the current administration)?”
I know that it feels like we don’t have much power, especially when compared with sweeping executive orders and folks who are willing to break laws to simply do what they want. But I disagree with the despair. History shows that we, as a world, have been through dark tunnels before, and there are always ways to contribute to a more just world.
Things that might feel good to you right now:
Call your representatives. I use the amazing 5 Calls app,, and I have to say: it’s getting easier to “speak to power,” and I notice more confidence in my voice compared to when I started making calls. This practiced ability will serve me well in the long run.
Build community right where you’re at. I know folks volunteering at a food bank, making warm wool hats for unhoused people, packing a second lunch every day and giving it to someone unhoused, or reading diverse books to expand their internal understanding of difference, similarity, and belonging.
Go to a protest. There are small but meaningful protests happening all the time in so many places. Are you in San Francisco? Want to join the group who holds signs in front of the Tesla dealership on Van Ness Avenue? Are you in Washington, D.C. or Northern Virginia? Here’s a calendar of protests and resistance activities you can join.
Take one of these “30 lonely but beautiful actions which probably won't magically catalyze a mass movement against Tr*mp but that are still wildly important.”
Knit, crochet, stitch, or make something by hand. Not because the knitting is a protest but because doing something you love and filling your cup is not frivolous. It’s a small thing, and also not a small thing. It’s claiming a moment for yourself to do something that brings you joy in a world that is outwardly and loudly telling you to despair and that the answer to that despair is to doomscroll, buy something, consume something, hide, or ignore.
This is the hill I will probably die on: claiming our time for something like hand-making is a way to resist all of these forces, to resist capitalism and consumerism and authoritarianism because it reinforces to ourselves that we are capable. We don’t need to buy something to be happy. We can find joy in the work of our hands. These feelings are foundational to any other resistance activity we might take.
I was inspired this week by interdisciplinary artist Yumi Sakugawa who wrote in their newsletter:
“Joyfulness in these dark times is not a contradiction or frivolity.”
“Don’t let the oppressors take away your creative expression and joy. We will sing, make art, connect, share meals, tell stories, and celebrate even as we all go through this dark tunnel together.”
Let’s build community right here: this is your official invitation to participate in the Swap Shop.
A few weeks ago, I previewed that I’m gearing up for a new round of my “free e-Bay for knitwear” Swap Shop.
It’s where you can rehome a piece of knitwear you no longer use or claim a piece of knitwear that you might love. The knitwear is free, and the recipient pays for shipping.
I have two sweaters and a handful of accessories to rehome. Two of you have already submitted sweaters (two gorgeous ones) and a stunning shawl. My friend Tyne has donated her entire collection of shawl samples, and I’ll be including a half-dozen of them in this next round.
What about you?
If you have identified something you are ready to pass along, this is your official call to take 5-10 minutes and let me know. Your deadline to submit an item is Sunday, March 30.
If you’re feeling underwater with your to-do list, purchase concierge service from me (for $12 an item, which includes the cost to mail it to me). I will send you a mailer and do everything else that needs doing (measuring, photographing, etc.)
Submit your items to be listed using this form. (You’ll need a measuring tape, a small kitchen scale to weigh your item, and your phone camera to take a picture.)
I’ll turn everyone’s listings into an online, shoppable “shop” (in my shop) and will then give folks two weeks to “shop” the listings. Paid subscribers will get first dibs. I anticipate I’ll have everything ready for you to begin shopping on Sunday, April 6. (I’ll keep you in the loop if I need to move this.)
Activities like this are resistance, too. It says we are in this wild, beautiful, sometimes dark world together.
We take care of one another.
We will offer the things we can.
We will feel good about claiming the things that speak to us.
We can flourish.
We all need experiences that reinforce these values and feelings deep in our bones, and we need more of them.
It’s also a great time to remind you that if you can’t afford a paid subscription but would like to participate in all the Swap Shop activities (contributing an item or early claiming), you can request a community-supported subscription here. No questions asked. We’ve got you.
I just found your Substack this morning and am delighted that I did. I'm a lifelong knitter (Thank you, Nana) and a weaver. I, too, have found immense comfort in these crazy scary times with soft yarn running through my fingers, a lovely garment taking shape as I knit. I give almost everything I make away to friends, family, the homeless, and even penguins recovering from an oil spill. Thank you for your words. We knitters are sisters.
I have really been struggling with all of my sadness, anger, and pain lately. This is not what government or our world should be about. Every day when I go to work I am reminded of how much things can change without warning. I'm a teacher of students with visual Impairments and so many things that help my students and their families are, at least partially, federally funded. My grounding and hope right now is my knitting and my faith. Thank you for your wonderfully soft and beautiful yarns, as well as your thoughtful writing, they grounded me too, today.